New Masks
by Pulsebeat Crow
Summary: A young girl comes to the Opera Populaire, vaguely aware of the Phantoms presence, and having no idea at what she and the Opera Ghost share. He wonders why he is still here, and now is frustrated at this strange new girl. Modern, T for language.
1. In Which There is a Girl

_Disclaimer: I do not own PotO or any of it's characters, lyrics, ideas, descriptions...etc. At least, not until I manage to find the contract I signed with any people who own those rights in my past life. I do own original characters such as Katrina and Cira, and most descriptions of their details._

_In modern Paris..._

Cira looked up at the entrance to the Opera house. You had been invited by your friend Katrina a few months earlier. Delighted to hear from your dearest friend, you had flown practically the next plane out of your home in Virginia to here. Being here briefly stirred memories of your obsession with _the Phantom of the Opera _a few years back. Subconsciously you wonder if that was another reason you had come, but staring at the great stone building, you wondered if any reason was good enough to step foot in such a grand place. If it had ever been burnt down, _which it probably hadn't! _you chide yourself, they had done a magnificent job rebuilding it.

"Hey! Cira, are you going to stand there and gawk all day or are you going to come in?" Katrina yelled from the doors into the building. "You know, your stupid suitcases are really heavy. I could just leave them and you out here and..."

"Alright, alright! I'm coming mother dearest." you answer jokingly, and carefully run up the stairs, trying to hurry and stay out of someone elses way, even if few people were there. Entering the building, you keep walking, but stare even more at all the bright colors around you. It was built somewhat modernly, but banners, curtains, and glass covered lights gave the polished stone lobby an older look, and it was beautiful. But, sadly, Katrina's patience with a place she was well familiar with was not endless, and you were dragged up multiple stairs until you reach a hall with multiple doors down it. The Opera house was still used as a place to live during your career, which was interesting considering. Katrina brought you into a room in the middle of the hall and threw your things unceremoniously to the ground, leaving you staring at the piccolo in your hand with relief, glad you had carried it yourself. Damn things were so hard to tune...

"If my shoes were made of glass they would be broken, and then what would you do?" You asked with an air of mock sadness.

"Um...Tell you that they were stupid to buy anyway?" Katrina joked.

You sighed and smiled at her, and looked around your temporary, or possibly even your new home. The walls were a soft green, the furniture was a dark red wood, there was a yellow and white themed bathroom to the side, a window with a view of the entrance to the building, and a full length mirror in the corner near your bed. Thinking of your bedroom back home, you knew if you didn't get into the Opera houses permanent cast list, you would have to be dragged by Katrina back to the airport...

"You know, they gave you Christine Daae's old room Cira..." Katrina said in a quiet, scary tone.

"Don't be silly. There isn't really a ghost Katrina. The Phantom doesn't exist, and if he did... Well, he wouldn't anymore." you scoffed at her, still knowing that you wished you could meet the Phantom somewhere in your mind. Katrina looked shocked and proceeded to berate you with reasons why he did, slyly inserting the fact that Marissa Giry was the current ballet teacher, the grand-daughter of Madame Giry.

"You never mentioned that. Is that true...?" You ask, suspicious and yet, interested. She grinned, and simply started on a long string of random topics loosely related to you question that might eventually answer it, unaware you were being watched.

Behind the mirror, a safe distance away, a figure in black stood, boredly listening to the two girls talking about his...Story, with random topics inserted between. The young, pink haired child named Katrina, who had adequate talent as an alto in the Opera house, seemed to be talking to this newcomer like an old friend. But that was what bothered him today. He made it his business to know all about everyone that was in his theater, and all he could tell about this girl who had taken the late Miss Daae, well, the late Mrs. deChagny's room was that she played piccolo, her voice suggested an alto range, and that she was friends with the pink haired hyper thing that was the only one who still told stories of his tale, unless you counted the aloof ballet instructor, Miss Giry. He really wished that family would leave... As he saw the new girl start looking at the mirror with unnecessary interest he left quietly the way he had come.

_Um. Dun dun dun... Until next time. Review, tell me what needs fixing etc., and give any ideas you have for plot. I have a plot in mind... But I need at least one side plot, at least it would be nice, before we go into that. And in case you didn't catch it all, you play Cira, who has shoulder lentgh dark brown hair, gray eyes, and you wear a half mask to cover a medical condition. Yes. I did say it. No, you won't know what until later. _


	2. In Which There is a Woodwind Competition

_Disclaimer: No. I still don't. I do however, own my socks. I bought them. Myself. -with your neighbors money...- Oh. Yeah... Well, maybe I don't own my socks! I don't own Phantom of the Opera either. Happy? -quite- But the poem Cira sings belongs to me, so there._

_Thanks you three peoples for reviewing! It means a lot that even three people like my story... -sniff- I'm very strange, am I not? Oh well. I know, I lied, but here is the next chapter... _

**Chapter Two: In Which There is a Woodwind competition**

It was the fourth day of living in the opera house, and you were now almost entirely settled in. Even after four days of running around with Katrina with pop rocks and mountain dew for energy, of which the power shouldn't be underestimated, you still probably hadn't explored even a small fraction of the huge building. You were in you room, cleaning your piccolo, thinking about at this moment. It was a huge beautiful building, you hoped you would _live_ here, yet you knew that somehow, this place would never be fully explained to you. You frowned at this, but just then Katrina burst into your room.

"Cira? What are you still doing here?" Katrina asked, seeming surprised.

"Yes Katrina, I left without telling you. And yet... Here I am..." You laughed at her. "Um, but didn't you know about the woodwind placement contest? Er, or whatever it's called?" She asked, still confused. "You know that the woodwind section is in the auditorium having the seasons contest for seating, and we have six other piccolo players, and tons of other wishful sopranos?**"**

"Eh! No one told me this!" You panicked. Grabbing your piccolo carefully but quickly, you turned and sprinted to the auditorium three floors below, leaving Katrina to stare at you wildly fleeing form, blinking slowly.

**-----------------------------------------------------**

"Madam Cira Lynn Terris?"

"I'm here!" You shouted breathlessly as you dashed to a seat and tried desperately to make yourself look somewhat orderly.

"Indeed." The conductor frowned at you and proceeded to call the rest of the group out. In fact, studying the crowd with green eyes, you weren't even sure it could be called a group. They defied any label the world ever knew, even though you really didn't like to use 'labels' The mix of people was probably astounding, even though there probably wasn't more then a hundred of you, which seemed small compared to your high schools population. You however, had just added to the strangeness by appearing with only your piccolo. You smacked yourself mentally. You hadn't even brought music! Just then Katrina walked in, she was just here to observe, and you were sure that the lady-like walk down the center aisle was just to annoy you. She grinned and sat down next to you, holding out your Phantom of the Opera book.

"Of all my music, you bring what I have memorized, just to annoy me!"You muttered with more then a little exasperation in your tone. Not that you didn't like the music, but you hadn't exactly played this in oh...Half a year. But at least you had music. You sighed and watched the others start the auditions. You would be on of the last, going by section and alphabet. Why were their always so many flute players!

Eventualy, your turn was almost there. You played the first song in the book, your piccolo making the love song 'All I Ask of You' sound...Intresting, to say the least. You were sure you would be kicked out, but thirty long minutes later, you were still among those, going for the top five seats. Two other piccolo players were yet to be placed besides you, and other flute and clarinet, or variations of the two, players. Up in box five, a figure watched with little interest.

_Or course, with the mysterious figure that is the Phantom..._

Ah, the band. The singing placement yet to come, you had decided to listen to the woodwind placements. They weren't bad, but of course, woodwind being such a strange set of instruments, their were some that were painful to watch. Especially the damn piccolos and saxaphones. Really couldn't get more brassy then a sax, and the lowest piccolo player, whose instrument was sadly out of tune, brought to mind a certain Prima Donna that had once destroyed the ear drums of those who were forced to live here, namely him. And there was one that was playing songs that had a little too much memory carried in the high pitched playing. If he had bothered to notice, he would have known that this piccolo player actually wasn't quite so constantly high pitched, but he was concentrating on his memories. That is, untill a certain song that seemed to know represent his lifes main event started to sound from it. Strange how they though he was a myth. Actualy, why were their so many piccolos anyway? It would totaly unbalence the music... He stared at the band directer before returning to the brown haired girl.

_Back with the piccolo player who is playing those songs..._

Annoyed that the band directer was having such a hard time choosing you above the girl who couldn't play any sort of F if her life depended on it, you had started your last song with a shrill D. It peirced the air, and you twitched a little. It was much too high actualy. But you played on, lowering the pitch to a airy whisper as you started the first verses music, then letting whatever fit the music happen as you played the song. You were better then that girl, shoot the director! Your hostile thoughs were soon lost in your music, and you closed your eyes and played your heart out. When you were done, Katrina looked at you and bluntly said,

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? You've been practicing those songs all along haven't you?" She smirked, and you glared at her.

"No madamoiselle, the low E is all keys down... Yes that's right. Go get muffins for the ducks." and then you fainted. After all, you had just managed the upper E which had been eluding you all year, at a fortissimo no less.

**-----------------------------------------------------**

"You have the best timing. If I could be you, I'm sure my parents would be much happier." It seemed Katrinas voice that cut through the darkness as you opened your eyes. You were still in the auditorium.

"What?"

"Cira, would you be able to audition for your saprono part now...?"

_Well_, you thought, _that's a stupid question. Monseiur, I just fainted from playing the high pitched piccolo at FF volume with a high E for the first time in my life. I'm gonna sing any of my songs, the lowest in any of which is a G, the highest a C which will be expected some octave higher then middle C...and yes I'll sing. _But of course, you did have to sing. Flipping through your book, you decided to sing you just wouldn't sing from it, and started to sing a poem you had written a short while ago, which was still, you glared at yourself, inspired by Phantom of the Opera.

"_Daylight. Crossing the bridge to leave Dusk behind. Left there, left there just standing there is Dusk by Dawn. _

_I guess that light could never love the darkness happily..._

_And all he wants is her happiness, and of course...Her love._

_But young innocent light may find that darks truth isn't hers to find._

_Passionate Dusk will have to learn that light will break the darkness._

_She will leave him behind._

_And dance off with Noon to leave him with Night._

_Woe, the emptiness of Night._

_The passion and love that ends in fury day by day. _

_But still she comes back to say..._

_I love you._

_Then takes and breaks again his heart._

_It's why the sky is red at Dawn..."_

You went on, and was embarrassed to find everyone standing... Staring at you. You suddenly felt very tired, and became all the more conscious of how messy you looked. You turned to Katrina.

"Woe is me! I'm a mess! Monsieur...Conductor Guy, may I please leave?"

He nodded, his jaw still open a little. You weren't sure if people were staring at you out of horror, wonder, or awe, but either way it was uncomfortable. You rushed out of the auditorium holding your piccolo and your book, blushing slightly, and unaware of the glowering eyes among the others on you.

_Again we go to the box...of fiveness: _

This girl, besides having exceptional talent, seemed to be singing to him with that song. He wondered. All the sons she had used were related to him, as if she knew more about the Phantom then all the other idiots did. That displeased him. What else could she know, besides the knowledge of his story? For he did not know such tragedy was common, if in a less dramatic way then his own. He studied you quietly from his seat. You were messy looking, your brown hair in a loose toothed barrette, and green eyes shining intelligently. He also noticed, though perhaps it was the light, that the left side of your face seemed to be darker toned then the right, even though it was facing the light. Well, maybe after all these years, someone he couldn't understand had again found their way to his Opera house. But, he would not let you stay uncomprehendable for long, he as the Phantom of the Opera...he wouldn't allow it!

_Gr. Again, a little too short... But things get a little more interesting eh? By the way, here's a more detailed description of Cira. She has short dark brown hair with reddish highlights, green eyes, pale skin with some freckles, and your pretty tall at 5'8''. Your in the last year of high school-ish, obviously play the piccolo, and have a voice range of soprano/mezzo soprano when your lazy. Your slightly insane, clever, humorous and easily and deeply depressed, with a quiet anger. You wear heavy makeup to cover up your face on the left, and occasionally masks, which is dismissed as a hobby and accounted for by your strangeness, and you've caught everyone's favorite Phantoms eye! Your best friend is the blonde Katrina, who is several inches shorter then you, gray eyed, same age and matchingly strange, who is a mezzo soprano violinist, grew up with you and seems oblivious to the covering of your left side facade. Review and the next chapter should be up in a few days. GO STEELERS! Happy Super Bowl all. -random- -bows out- _


End file.
